


Mey-Rin

by teasmudge



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Just Demon Things, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Restless Demon Syndrome, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25370668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teasmudge/pseuds/teasmudge
Summary: “S-Sebastian?”“Hmm?”“What are y-you goin’ to do to m-me?”He rolls her over unkindly and lays her flat on the bed. Her hair comes undone with the movement, spilling red over the Young Master’s pillows, and Sebastian simply adores the sight. He leans into the crook of her shoulder and confesses, “I’m going to make you come on the Young Master’s fresh sheets.”I want to watch him sleep on them.The look on her face tells him all he needs to know about her. She wants it. On the Young Master’s bed. How perverse.
Relationships: Mey-Rin/Sebastian Michaelis
Comments: 13
Kudos: 73





	Mey-Rin

**Author's Note:**

> An anon asked me for Sebastian and Mey-Rin smut. I agreed, but only if it was on the Young Master's bed.

“Goodness, Mey-Rin. Can I not trust you to properly make a bed?” he miffs. “Honestly. Being far-sighted does not excuse such foolishness.”

Mey-Rin startles, blushing into the thick pile of linens she somehow got herself tangled into. She’d been trying her best with the duvet cover, “But it has all of these buttons, you see,” she sticks her entire head into the sheet in search of them.

Sebastian’s eyes roll to the back of his head. 

“Found it!” she peaks her head back out and shows him. “Now to button the--”

His palm finds the small of her back and stops her, “Leave it to me.”

She watches meekly as Sebastian arranges the duvet and tidies the bed. He stretches the sheet over the mattress and fluffs all of the pillows into their pillowcases, “The Young Master is very particular about his bed,” he tells her sternly. “You must be more careful.”

“Yes,” she agrees, but all she can really focus on is the ghost of Sebastian’s hand, searing a brand into the base of her spine. 

Sebastian tilts his head at her small voice and takes her in. From their short distance, he can smell the warm dew of her arousal, sickly sweet, rolling off of her in waves. Her eyes remain downcast, chin leaning onto her shoulder as she fiddles nervously with her fingers. Admittedly, he quite likes that pink look of shame dusting across her face. 

He takes a moment to check the time on his watch and hums at it approvingly before tucking it back into the breast pocket of his tailcoat. Plenty of time until the Young Master’s afternoon tea.

A wide, dangerous smile snarls over his face as he steps toward her. She’s always enjoyed the tap of his oxford’s against the wooden floor. Slow, precise, predatory. 

“Clumsy girl,” he reaches for a lock of her hair and twirls it fondly around his gloved fingers. “Will you ever learn?” he asks in _that_ voice. The one that frightens her just as much as it excites her.

She pouts up at him, unsure of what to say, “L-learn?” she bumbles softly. Instinct sends her stumbling away from Sebastian’s imposing presence. 

He backs her onto the edge of the Young Master’s vanity as she tries to scoot away, “Oh, no you don’t,” he laughs into her neck. She squirms as his arm winds around her waist, returning his hand to the fiery spot he previously ignited on her back. Had he known all along? He brings her close and slots his thigh between the ruffles of her skirt. 

“Do you think I do not notice,” he removes her glasses from her face and calmly places them atop the vanity, “the scrutiny of those provocative little eyes?” 

Mey-Rin’s vision goes blurry. She tries to hide the panic on her face with her hands. He sighs contentedly and she realizes, with great clarity, that he prefers how helpless she is like this. The dread of it settles into her spine, red-hot and delicious.

“None of that,” he grabs her wrists away from her face and lifts her into his arms rather easily, “I’m going to make a proper maid out of you.” 

She squeaks against him. 

Her legs latch around his hips on reflex as he carries her to the bed. It is still unmade, and he gestures to the unravelled sheet sticking out of the closest corner, “Go on. Show me that you know how to do it properly.”

Mey-Rin goes red all over, and she doesn’t have her glasses on, and she feels hot, and very embarrassed. When she tries to stand so that she can do as Sebastian has asked of her he brings her back to him.

“No,” he tells her. “Not like that. Crawl on the bed.”

And she does, without her glasses, and does it well. Her knees press into the bed as she bends to tuck the sheets underneath the fold of the mattress. Her skirt shuffles up her thighs, revealing the tight pudge of skin squishing out of her stockings. 

“What a very good maid,” he applauds her job well done. “Not so hard, was it?”

She shakes her head, “N-no sir.”

He traces a finger over the buckles of her boots, following the smooth path up her leg. 

“S-Sebastian?” 

“Hmm?”

“What are y-you goin’ to do to m-me?”

He rolls her over unkindly and lays her flat on the bed. Her hair comes undone with the movement, spilling red over the Young Master’s pillows, and Sebastian simply adores the sight. He leans into the crook of her shoulder and confesses, “I’m going to make you come on the Young Master’s fresh sheets.” 

_I want to watch him sleep on them._

The look on her face tells him all he needs to know about her. She wants it. On the Young Master’s bed. How perverse. 

He slides down her body and bunches her skirt up to her stomach. She presses her thighs together and coyly leans away from his touch. 

“Are you hiding from me, Mey-Rin?” he muses.

He grabs onto her thighs and spreads them apart, hoisting her body toward his mouth. Her knee-high-boots curl over his shoulder. She mewls helplessly, a lovely sound, and covers her face in her arms.

Sebastian’s lips feel much too warm on her skin. The way his kisses inch up her thighs make her shiver. And he likes it. How sensitive she is. He tells her so, laughing softly all the way to the crinkle of her panties.

He opens his mouth over the fabric and flattens his tongue above her cunt. She squeezes his head between her legs, unable to help the delight in her sigh. 

He leans his head away from her, only a little, and brings his fingers between her legs, outlining the damp patch of fabric marking the place where his tongue had just been. 

“So pretty,” he pinches her. Rolls her skin and panties between his index and thumb. 

“S-stop!” she squishes against him. “It h-hurts.”

He obliges, eventually. Brings his finger to his teeth and bites his glove off. He measures the size of his finger against the plush of her panties, “You are so small, Mey-Rin.” She cannot see him, but she can tell, somehow, that he’s smiling through his teeth.

He noses into her lap, shoving her panties aside, and inhales her skin. “Mmm,” he holds her panties out of the way with his fingers. “What a pretty little cunt.” 

She preens. Her back arches off the bed and the movement spreads her legs further apart. She feels like a display, presenting herself to Sebastian, open and swollen. 

He smiles against her and licks into her slowly. She’s so wet. Sebastian likes how sticky she tastes. 

Mey-Rin hiccups the name given to him by the Young Master. Over and over again, as he lathers his tongue on her clit and presses it impossibly further into her cunt. _Sebastian_. And oh, he can tell she liked that. _Sebastian_. His hand splays over her, spreading her entirely open for him with his thumb as he brings his mouth back onto her clit and suckles. _Sebastian_. He feels her throb against his tongue. _Sebastian_.

He pulls away from her to bite off the glove from his other hand and she whines at the emptiness, wiggling her hips in place as though she can’t help it. 

“Greedy little girl,” he speaks into her cunt, and brings his other hand down the curve of her ass. 

She fists into the duvet when she feels him sink a finger inside of her. “Is this what you wanted?” he mouths against her.

“Yes,” she cries, and he curls inside of her. 

And she’s so tiny, squeezing on his finger, that he mouths off her clit and slides his lips down her raw skin, latching his tongue against the tight clinch of her cunt around his finger.

She blooms on his tongue, and finally, he fits a second finger. Her cunt wraps hotly around him, accommodating the stretch, and when his mouth returns to her clit, she sops prettily around him. Her wetness leaks down his wrist and onto the sheets and it pleases Sebastian so very much that he purrs appreciatively against her. 

His fingers reach deep inside of her, “Oh. T-there,” and she goes frantic. Her knees shake on his shoulder, back arching off the bed as she writhes into his fingers and claws her hands into his hair.

“Shhh,” he coos, reaching under the mess of her skirt to flatten his palm over her navel. He presses her tummy heavily onto the bed as his fingers hook her cunt upward, curving her spine into the most delicious feeling she has ever felt and she positively melts. 

And melts. 

And melts.

“That’s it,” he rocks her through it. “There you go. Good girl.”

Mey-Rin blisses out as Sebastian arranges her panties back in place and soothes her shaking thighs with nuzzled kisses. After a while, she sits up and preens at her hair. Sebastian gladly wipes his dirty hands over the duvet and grabs for his gloves.

He leaves the bed and returns with her glasses. She thanks him softly and refuses to look him in the eyes, but when she gazes shyly at his lap he laughs darkly. How precious.

“Oh, sweet girl. This,” he places her hand over his trousers, “isn’t for you.” He lifts her chin and pins her with a specific look, “Do you understand?”

\---

That night, like every night, Sebastian asks Ciel about his day. Simple propriety is all.

“It was uneventful,” Ciel tells Sebastian about the load of paperwork he spent the afternoon signing. 

Sebastian folds open the duvet and watches, rather keenly, as the boy settles himself into bed.

“I can’t imagine a day’s worth of housework is any more entertaining than a stack of unsigned documents, though, is it?” he chastises. “Does my demon grow restless?” 

Sebastian tucks the duvet under Ciel’s chin as a wide, toothy smile claims the entirety of his face, “Quite right, Young Master.”


End file.
